After Death
by Naughty Nylon
Summary: One drowned in the arms of hundreds of Inferi and the other fell through a veil into the afterlife or so the wizarding world thought. The Black Brothers have survived till after the war, but sometimes they both wish they hadn't. (A/U. Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Mafalda Prewett, Susan Bones and Pansy Parkinson)
1. Chapter 1

After Death

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Original Characters. Unless specified, everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers._

 _Synopsis: One drowned in the arms of hundreds of Inferi and the other fell through a veil into the afterlife or so the wizarding world thought. The Black Brothers have survived till after the war, but sometimes they both wish they hadn't. (A/U. Regulus Black, Sirius Black, O.C.)_

* * *

 _Well I knew,_

 _What I didn't want to know,_

 _And I saw,_

 _Where I didn't want to go._

 _So I took the path less traveled on_

 _And I'll let my stories be whispered when I'm gone_

 ** _As It Seems - Lily Kershaw_**

Chapter 1

The day started the same as every other day, with the rising sun pushing rudely through the small window and straight onto his closed eyes. He reached out a hand, long fingers grasping at the table next to his side of the bed, grasping for a wand that his sleep ridden brain always forgot wasn't there. His fingers meeting nothing but air bring back the memories. The sleepiness disappears and something else sets in, some other feeling that he'd long forgotten how to describe or even fully understand. His usual morning sigh escapes him whilst he uses his legs and feet to kick the covers off him and down to the bottom of the small bed.

He knew his movement would wake the curled up figure next to him, it always did. A slight turn of his head brought the figure into view. She is young, he knew that much, old enough that Hogwarts was a few years behind her, but he wouldn't guess more than five. Her red hair is long and unkempt; there are smatterings of freckles across her exposed skin. These two factors had always made him suspect her to be a Weasley or at least Weasley related.

He never asked though; names weren't important between them.

Turning away from her, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood up. Bending his arms so that his balled fists were pulled tight to his chest and his elbows stuck out either side of him he twisted from his waist to one side and then the other, five times for each side and then onto the other stretches and exercises he had to complete every morning when he woke up.

Some of his long dark hair fell into his eyes as he leant forwards reaching for his toes, his long fingers barely brushing the top of them when he heard her move across the bed, this was swiftly followed by a solid slap on his exposed rear end.

A chirpy sounding 'mourning' followed the slap and he knew that the day had really begun.

Bracing his hands on his knees he let out another sigh before responding with the usual "Not today, we're still alive."

This caused the normal dry laughter in response and his companion to bounce of the bed. She always made an effort to be cheerful, to bounce around and make everything not seem as hopeless as he knew they both felt.

She moved over towards the mirror and started attempting to sort out her hair; it never worked. No matter how many times she pushed it back, to the side or even tucked it behind her ears it just sprung free and resumed its natural placement. She scrunched her nose up in a way that really wasn't all that attractive though it did appear to make her freckles bunch together.

"Is it naming day?" she asked, still looking at herself disapprovingly in the mirror.

"Um..." he counted the days since the last naming day "Yes, yes it is."

"Okay, well, then I think I'll be Felis." She said, turning away from the mirror and making a flourish with her hand that indicated that it was his turn to pick a name.

A crooked smile crossed his lips as he straightened himself "I'll have to be Felix, then."

That decision started their day.

* * *

Somewhere else in the world far from where Felix and Felis had woken stood another man. This one was similar in appearance to Felix. His head was bowed, hands clasped in front of him. A young man with a lightning bolt scar stood next to him. Neither spoke, both wore grim expressions as they gazed down at the slightly raised mounds of earth in front of them. The day was cold, gloomy with a fine mist of rain pouring down on their heads, yet, the man who resembled Felix felt hot and shrugged off the black jacket he was wearing.

"I wanted to tell you." He said at last, addressing the young man next to him.

"Not badly enough." Replied the young man, his voice was rough, tattered with emotions "You all lied to me. Whe..." his voice broke off, he removed his glasses and started to clean them, hoping the distraction would stop the pain and rage swirling in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry, you have to understand that if I could have told you, then I would have but Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore! When did you ever actually do anything he told you to do? I thought you were dead! I begged for you to come back, even as a ghost! I mourned for you!"

"Don't you think I know that? Do you know how hard it was, watching you from afar? Wanting to help but knowing that I had to be gone, that you didn't need me."

"I did need you Sirius! Help, advice, the knowledge that when it was all over I would have a home to go too, a home that had family in it!"

Sirius lurched forwards and gripped Harry by the tops of his arms "You do have a home and a family. I am here now, Harry, Grimmauld Place is yours."

"I don't want that place; I don't want anything that was yours." Harry said coldly shrugging off his godfather "But that is where the Minister would like you to stay for the time being." This sentence was said his manner matter of fact as he stepped back "I have to go."

"Of course," Sirius said sighing as he stepped back from the godson he loved like a son "Death Eaters won't round themselves up."

"No." Harry replied turning away from the defeated figure, his green eyes brushed over the two graves and for a moment his paused as the world felt like it dropped out from underneath him "Is he really dead?" he asked so softly that Sirius almost missed the question.

"Yes."

The bright green eyes of Harry came back and landed on him "I wish it had been you." Where the last words that Sirius heard Harry say before he turned on the spot and apparated away.

"So do I." Sirius replied, a single tear making its way from his eye and down his nose "So do I."

* * *

 _A/N: Okay, so first chapter done. Hope people enjoy it. It should smooth out as the story progresses. I would appreciate a Beta Reader if anyone is interested._


	2. Chapter 2

_Cause in this life you must find something to live for_

 _Because when the darkness comes a callin'_

 _You'll go back to where you were before_

 _Cause this life is as_

 _Fragile as a dream,_

 _And nothing's ever really_

 _As it seems._

 _ **Lily Kershaw**_ _(As it seems)_

* * *

Chapter 2

"Oh Harry, that was an appalling thing to say to him!" Hermione said fluffing up the pillow she was lent against. Ron was lying next to her; one hand lazily resting on her knee.

"Gotta agree with Hermione here, mate, it was a bit harsh." He chimed in; this received him a glowing look from Hermione.

Harry scowled at them both "Harsh was pretending to die and not telling me."

"Well it would kind of make the whole pretending to die pointless if he told you about it." Ron interjected.

"Shut up Ron!"

"What? I was just-"

Harry cut across them before they could get into an argument. He had hoped that the back and forth sniping between them would have stopped now that they were officially going out.

It was apparently too much to hope for.

"Look, I get it." He said finally, he caught the look Hermione was giving him "I do. I just...I just need time."

"That's understandable," Hermione said stiffly pulling a book out of her back and looking at it

"Just don't take too long, Harry, time really is precious."

* * *

Felix and Felis' day had gone as normal. They'd raced the very short distance to the bathroom and tussled over who got to use the bath first. As per usual they ended up using it at the same time, taking it in turns to wash each others hair and back. Felix always found it relaxing; there was something about having his scalp massaged that he liked. The pair always stayed in the bath until the water went cold, it was the only hot water they would get unless they boiled the kettle and so the pair learned to savior it.

Getting dry was just as much a performance, with a pair of small worn towels it was more a trial in trying to find away to dry naturally. The towels had really lost any absorbent ability several years ago.

"Is there any spray left?" asked Felis, sitting on the run down toilet and inspecting the area between her toes.

"No, I put some on the list though."

She sighed whilst picking off some dead skin and rolling it between her index finger and thumb until it became a ball "He won't bring it."

"He might." Felix said watching her with a frown. He found her habit of picking off dead skin irritating and a little disgusting.

"It upsets Veepy; he never gets things that the house elf won't bring."

"Well if you hadn't sprayed it on her."

Felis stood up at this remark, flicking the ball of dead skin at him "It was an accident." She hissed before turning on her heels and marching out the bathroom.

He sighed as he watched her go; he knew that antagonizing her about the day when she accidentally sprayed their captor's house elf in the face was cruel. She'd not meant it and the fallout had been the pair of them living in the dark for two days. That and the house elf became so scared of the spray cans they were never allowed anymore.

Banging and clattering could be heard from what was known as the kitchen, she was in there taking out her annoyance on the pots and pans. Wisely he decided to go back to the bedroom to get dressed and give her time to get those feelings out.

* * *

Grimmauld place was more depressing than it had been back when he was a wanted man. Now, free and cleared of all charges of wrongdoing - expect the whole attacking the fat lady and wandering around Hogwarts with a knife thing - it had only got gloomier.

The war was over. Voldemort was dead and what felt like every remaining Death Eater claiming to be shaking off the Imperius Curse. It was meant to be a happy time, yet he could not muster a single positive feeling. He was alone. All his friends lives had been taken by both the wars even his old rival had been murdered. His godson wished him dead.

Sirius used his wand to remove the dust and cobwebs that had gathered on his bed then slumped down onto it, his grey eyes landing on the single moving picture in his room. It had been taken in his Hogwarts days, the only time in his life that he'd felt truly. His arms were slung over James and Remus, Peter stood to James' other side an expression of happiness and surprise on his face.

A surge of hatred overcame Sirius as his eyes lingered on the small watery eyed boy, he was the reason everything had gone to shit. Without really thinking Sirius drew his wand and blasted Peter out of the picture. Wand still raised, he watched the area smoulder slightly and waited to the last wisps of smoke floated away before slowly moving off the bed and walking across to the picture to examine the scorch marks left by the blast. Tentatively he raised a hand and touched the spot, tracing his fingers over what had been Peter moments before.

Then he moved his hand across, tracing over James, himself and then Remus. They'd been alive once. This was proof that everything that had happened was real. That thought made him regret blasting away the round happy face of Peter. Whatever he'd become after Hogwarts when the war had seeped into their lives and they'd made their choices, he'd still been a friend once and a good friend at that.

Slowly his hand lowered, lingering on Remus for a moment before dropping completely by his side. In that moment he knew that he had two choices before him, to live or to die. He knew what his friends would want him to do, hell, he knew what teenage him would have wanted him to do.

It was just that right then, living seemed so much harder than dying.

* * *

A/N: Chapter Two done folks! The story should start to get going in the next couple of chapters. Hope you enjoy it :)


	3. Chapter 3

_All my friends tell me I should move on  
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song  
Ah, that's how you sing it  
Loving you forever, can't be wrong  
Even though you're not here, won't move on  
Ah, that's how we play it_

\- Dark Paradise (Lana Del Ray)

* * *

Chapter 3

The decision to live had been the easiest one he'd made, however, following that decision through was proving much more complicated than Sirius had thought it would be. The main issue that was stumping him was that, well, he didn't really know how to go about starting a life. His life had really been about one battle or another. His childhood was about surviving his family and fighting his way to being someone who was seen as more than a Black. He'd join the Order of the Phoenix almost from the moment he'd stepped outside Hogwarts, something that was at a full time job, leaving him with little need to consider career options, love lives or the various other things he was sure people must have done. Then came Azkaban, then in hiding from the law and finally; he'd died.

This realization had led him to feel more than a little bit sorry for himself. So he wasted at least two days sulking about just how terrible his life had been, especially when it had started so well and showed so much promise. When the third day rolled around another realization helped him see that if he wanted to live, sitting in his Mother's house was not going to achieve that. So he'd decided that he would reach out to some of the remaining Order members and see if any of them could suggest anyway that he could start re-entering wizarding society and build a life.

But as he had sat down to decide who to owl he couldn't really do more than press the nib of his quill to the parchment. Every person who popped into his head was either dead or hated him, he was pretty sure that his godson hated him. The tip of his quill dented the parchment though no words formed as his mind scanned the living people he could write too. This caused his stomach to sink in shame. How could he, Sirius Black, ask for help from any of those people? Those who had lived through a war, fought in a battle that he had to remain outside of?

His grip on his quill increased until the pressure caused it to snap. Unclenching his hand he looked down at the splintered mess he'd caused and decided there and then he was going for a several drinks and he knew exactly where he was going. He let the dead remains of his quill fall onto the dented parchment then he stood up and left.

* * *

Felix lay back on the bed, enjoying the fact that he had the mattress to himself. He was even enjoying the fact that the springs were digging into his lower back. Felis was in what passed for a living room, flipping through one of the small collection of books that had been gifted to the pair. This was the closest they ever came to alone time in a space that could barely house one person comfortably let alone two. He could still hear her through the thin wall as she muttered the words to herself, making the occasional dry comment about the text. She was always someone who had to do that, instead of just immersing herself into what she was doing; she had to keep a running commentary.

It was one of her really annoying habits, especially when it intruded on his attempt at finding solace. Felix really did not care that the characters were doing stupid things or that the heroine in the books ran towards the danger instead of stopping and deciding that running away was the smarter idea. He really did not care that the magic in those books were inaccurate and, at times, wildly over used.

He did care about having some peace though.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of her voice. A sigh left his lips as he reflected on how he got into this situation. He should be dead. Hell, he'd counted on dying as soon as that poison had left the goblet and touched his lips. The torment he'd been forced to see, the things he'd been forced to feel had made that idea so much more comforting so that as the Inferi had started to drag him down underneath the murky water his much younger self had welcomed their embrace.

The last thing he remembered from that entire ordeal was the rotten teeth of one sinking into the soft flesh of his calf muscle and then being pulled but not down into the depths, like he'd expected but upwards, towards the surface, he remembered his head breaking the top of the water and the teeth in his leg pull away and then nothing.

The pain in his leg had eventually brought him around, he didn't know how much later but he woke damp and in this room.

As the memory came back Felix bent his left leg and ran his hand down the back of his calf, feeling the scar in the shape of the inferi's mouth and the dent that had been left when one of the creature's teeth had broken off inside his leg, something he'd pulled out when he'd first come around and placed on the small table that stood beside the bed. Turning his head he looked at the very same table, the tooth had long since gone. He never knew where he had gone or why it had been taken, after all, the only person it had meant anything to was him.

It had resembled the one thing he'd never been in his life and something his older brother had always been. It reminded Felix that for the first time in his life, for the only time in his life, that he had been brave and sacrificed something that had mattered for a greater good.

It also represented how badly he'd failed at that.

* * *

Harry faced the Head of the Auror department, a table standing between them both men standing on either side staring at each other. Harry gritted his teeth, trying to remind himself that despite everything this Wizard was his boss and had the ability to make his life exceptionally uncomfortable. It was an unpleasant thought for the Boy Who Lived, simply because he couldn't believe that he had to take orders from this man, this man who had backed the Ministry when Voldemort was running it, this man who hadn't even – as far as he was concerned – joined the battle against the Death Eater's until it was almost done.

This man hadn't lived in a forest searching for pieces of someone else's soul, he had not died to save the world and therefore, he really didn't have any business dishing out instructions to the person who had.

In the very short period of time that Harry had been working for the Auror department he'd already had one disciplinary meeting for disregarding an order. An order that would have cost many lives. It hadn't mattered that his actions had stopped a Death Eater getting away and the murder of several Muggles. No, he'd disobeyed a superior and therefore had to be punished. The Minister had interfered before it got beyond more than a smack of the wrists and his boss had been forced to drop the entire process.

He'd been less than pleasant to Harry after that.

Harry watched as the older wizard crossed his arms and scowled, it deepening as he continued to simply stare back in silence. His boss was used to intimidating people into doing what he wanted, something he was never able to do with Harry. He was not scared of this man and he would not be bullied into doing a job that he considered menial and beneath him. He had been brought into the department as a fully fledged Auror to help track down and bring to justice Death Eaters not follow some rumor about an older Ex-Auror who'd been acting strange recently.

"He hardly sounds like he's budding up with Death Eaters." Harry replied trying to keep a lid on his temper, he was aware that this was the punishment for his escaping punishment those few months prior.

"Despite what you may believe, we deal with more than just Death Eaters in this office, they are not the only type of Dark Wizard and though I am confident this rumour is nothing more than an attempt to discredit a very gifted man. It is our job to check out that he is not trading in dark objects." Replied his boss, the man placing his hands on the top of the desk and leaning forward slightly "That makes it _your_ job, Potter."

"Surely, _Sir_ , there is someone else who you can give this assignment to? I am preparing for the Malfoy trial, a trial that it is important that I give evidence in."

"A trial that is next week and something you should be prepared for already, unless, you have more evidence that would change the outcome, then I am telling you to investigate this."

It was no secret that the trial of the entire Malfoy Family was more of a formality and that Harry would be testifying for the family, instead of against and that it had rubbed some of the older Auror's up the wrong way, including his boss, who would love nothing more than to see Lucius Malfoy rot in Azkaban forever, something that Harry agreed with but he couldn't allow it to happen when they'd eventually helped rid the world of Voldemort, well, Mrs. Malfoy had. He owed her, and this was the debt she had called in.

"Yes, Sir." He said, trying not to sound to sarcastic as he said it, knowing that if he did it would be another week of these tasks and other Wizards would be out there rounding up the LeStranges', Parkinsons' and Goyles' of the world.

"Take Bones with you," his boss said straightening to grab a file and give it to Harry, waving off his protest "I already have an assignment for Weasley and I think it's about time the Dream Team start to show this office that they have what it takes without being permanently attached to each other's hips."

Harry clenched his jaw, nodded and left the office more than annoyed at the fact he was being forced to work with someone else more than the fact he had actually just allowed himself to be forced to do an assignment that he did truly believe was beneath his skill.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in update. I will try to be more frequent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Susan Bones sat at the far end of the Auror office, her small cubicle obscured from sight around a corner that never really seemed to have a purpose besides making the office look a funny shape. Ron, Neville and himself had cubicles further up.

He intended to drag out the journey from his own cubicle to hers, spending more time than was needed on the Malfoy file. He had been intending on having another interview with Draco, wanting to get all the facts in place about his time with the Death Eaters. This was in part for the trial as a great deal of it hinged on proving that he had been forced into the acts he'd done with a mixture of fear and manipulation. The other part was going to building a defence about the posthumous trial of Severus Snape. Harry was personally connected to both and Hermione had warned him this could be used as a way to vilify the name of one and imprison the other.

Though if he was honest, he had very little left to learn and build on.

This meant that his boss was actually right to move him onto another case, though Harry didn't like the fact that he had also been re-assigned a partner, even if it was temporary. The silver lining was that at least it was someone like Susan and not one of the other recent recruits, some of whom he knew had come from Slytherin house and he suspected they were using the ministry to hide from prosecution.

He'd brought this up once at a meeting and was shortly told that every Auror was thoroughly vetted and this included what was mockingly known as the 'Kingsley Elite' of which he was the principal member and banner man.

Slipping the marked file back into his top drawer his eye caught movement from one of the photographs on his desk. It was one of the older photos of Sirius, lounging back on his bike and giving whoever took the photo a grin, occasionally using one hand to sweep back his black hair as it escaped into his eyes.

Sirius is alive, he thought remembering how he'd found this picture somewhere and treasured it as one of the few reminders of the man who was almost a Father. Harry had believed he would never see the man again and yet he had, standing in that graveyard at the grave of his friend. In that moment he honestly wished the two could swap places, Remus alive and with his son and Sirius gone, where Harry was used to him being.

Though as he watched the picture on his desk, the small movements and occasional wink in Harry's direction he gave, the young wizard realised that some part of him was happy that his Godfather was alive and that he'd only just revealed himself to be.

Harry placed the file back into the open drawer and then closed it. He could only procrastinate for so long, Susan would likely know he was coming down to talk about this new assignment, which, in all fairness sounded like a twenty four hour job at most. Gently he pushed the drawer shut, listening for the click that told him the lock had caught.

Then he turned around and came face to face with Susan Bones herself, she'd been standing so close to him that their noses practically touched.

"Oh, sorry." She said softly stepping back and giving him room "I saw you come in and...I didn't want to interrupt you whilst you were reading, but, I have some information on our assignment and wanted you to look over it."

Harry's brows furrowed in annoyance as she babbled and he took a step back himself to get a better look at her. Susan had been in the DA and they'd also shared Herbology together, where she had once told him she understood how he felt. That memory started to annoy him as he looked at her, his face clearly giving away that he was less than pleased with this arrangement.

Susan tugged on her plait slightly, her eyes averting Harry's and fixing on his feet "Here." She said, holding the folder with her information out to him which he took with a muttered thank you "I'll be at my desk when you have finished." And with that she turned and walked away.

As he watched her go a wave of guilt washed over him. It wasn't Susan's fault that she was partnered with him on this and so he shouldn't have taken his bad mood out on her, no matter how slightly he had actually done it. Once he'd read her folder and compiled some of his own information he would apologise to her, then perhaps they could get this assignment done and he could go back to chasing Death Eaters, as he was meant to.

* * *

The Hogshead was one of those places that Sirius was never quite sure why he went to. True, he was always friendly with Aberforth, even though they were often at odds with their beliefs and the way they went about things. The constant goat smell, the dusty glasses and general aura of a place that was always kept on the brink of disrepair drew him in and disgusted him at the same time, it was the same feelings he had for Azkaban. It had been his home for twelve years and somehow it had become a home in the same sense that Grimmauld Place had.

"Fire Whiskey." Sirius rumbled at Aberfoth before he'd found a stool at the bar. It was paramount that he had a drink ready to knock back when he found a seat. He looked around taking in all the other patrons, it was the usual sort of people one would expect to see in a place like this, and he thought he saw 'Dung dressed up in one of the dusty corners. He needed to have a little word with the thief about stealing from his godson, especially since one of the things that had been taken had actually been rather important in the long run.

That was something he'd deal with later, right there and then he wanted the drink he'd ordered and maybe some company that was not of the male kind. This was when he caught sight of a small figure at the bar, a figure that was almost certainly female from the curves and waves of blonde hair that hung loosely between the shoulder blades.

As luck would have it, there was an empty stool next to her, inclining his head he indicated where he would sit to Aberforth, who placed the drink down in the vacant place and went back to absently wiping glasses with a rag that probably was long passed the moment it should have been thrown out.

"So," Sirius started as he took the seat next to the blonde woman "what's a Witch like you doing in a place like this?"

Her head shifted slightly, her eyes coolly appraising him for a moment before her lips twitched into a smile that was very far from friendly "Drinking." She stated then as if to demonstrate she lifted the small half full glass in front of her to her lips to take a sip. She placed the glass down and turned her body slightly to face him "Does that line ever work for you?"

"First time I have ever tried it." He replied taking in her features. She was small and delicate looking, well, at least her body was and for a split second he wanted to reach out and apply some pressure to those thin wrists to see if the bones would crack as he suspected they would do. Her face didn't fit, the expression on it spoke of defiance and a strength he'd felt fitted a firmer person better.

"Well, it wasn't successful." She replied, tilting her head slightly that smirk changing into a slightly teasing smile "Care for another go?"

"I disagree; I think it was very successful." He countered, sipping his own fire whiskey keeping his eyes trained on her face. He rather liked the way that her nose was slightly turned up at the end, that she didn't have any issues meeting his gaze with her own, a hint of challenge in them.

"And," she said with a soft laugh "what brings you to that conclusion?"

"The point of the line was to get you to pay attention to me and then when I have you hooked, I would reel you in with my dark mystery and handsome face." He couldn't help the slightly arrogant smile that pulled at his lips "Are you hooked yet?"

Her answer didn't come straight away, instead she watched him for a few moments before downing the rest of her drink "I'm afraid not." She said as she placed the glass down on the surface of the bar "You see; I have really had my fill of darkly mysterious men with handsome faces." She reached out a hand placing it on his shoulder using it as a way to brace herself as she hopped down from her bar stool "What I really want now is a ugly man who is an open book."

Sirius had an answer to that but before he could get it out, she'd turned and picked up her coat then made her way across the bar and towards the door. Turning in his seat he watched her walk away, enjoying the view of her backside before he found his voice again.

"Hey!" he called out, stopping her as she opened the door "What's your name?"

"Pansy," she replied looking back at him with one foot out the door "Pansy Parkinson."

Then she was gone.

* * *

Somehow he'd managed to fall into a light doze, drifting in that place between being awake and fully asleep. Felis and her living room activities had become background noise; something that was comforting at this stage. He heard the kettle whistle as it came to the boil and her curse as she once again spilled hot water on her hand. The cold tap running, cupboards opening and closing as she looked for a silver plaster - something they had been told was good on burns. It was all a part of the routine. She always scolded herself; there were never any of those plasters or salve to cool the stinging.

The sound of a door slamming shut informed him that she had not found what she was looking for and had resorted to either kicking or smacking one of the cupboard doors. He also knew what was next and with a heavy sigh he opened his eyes and sat up. Running a hand through his dark hair, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and got up. It was time he played his part in the routine. The scolder, reminding her she should be careful whilst at the same time also being the soother - running her hand under cold water and gently holding a cold towel against it all the while chiding her about watching where she was pouring boiling hot water.

This annoying routine was his punishment, what he deserved after failing - he hoped that Kreacher had destroyed the Horcrux, but was not holding out any hope and since he'd never actually told anyone what he suspected there was no one to pick up the mantle for him. Why hadn't he reached out and told Sirius? His Brother would have known what to do, would have given his life to find every single Horcrux and destroy them.

He moved towards the small door of the room, semi lost in his continual self-pity - berating his own incompetence and cowardliness. He knew the feelings would pass, they always did. He would get lost in this routine again and he would go back to stagnating.

"I' am sick of it!" a very annoyed voice floated from the living room to him in the corridor.

"Then you should look where you are pouring boiling water." he replied, ready and willing to fulfil his role in this dance.

"Not that." Felis replied.

She was pacing from one end of the room to the other. Felix stopped and watched her, she wasn't someone who would ever win any beauty contests and he doubted she had all that much attention when she attended school, her features were just too pointed, her hair too dull but, he had to admit, and there was enough fire in her that drowned that all out.

"Then what is it Felis?"

"My name isn't Felis!" she yelled turning around to face him, her hands clenched by her side, her face a few shades pinker than normal "And I'm sick of everything, this place, having no magic, that fucking bastard keeping me here and then never giving us the stuff he says he is. I want to go home, I want to be outside. I want my damn wand!"

Calm settled over Felix as the first words that entered his mind came out of his month "Then let's go."

The taken aback look on her face told him this was not what she had been expecting. A few moments of silence followed in which it seemed they only stared at each other, taking in what had been said.

"How?" she asked, not asking why or even asking any of the other questions he would assume were normal at that point, instead she went straight for the how.

"I don't know yet, but together we can figure it out." he said softly, though, he had no idea where to even start. He'd been down here years and in those first few he'd tried to escape a bunch of times, each time he'd failed.

There was two of them now though and he hoped that between them they could find anyway, even if only one of them got away to raise the alarm and get the other rescued. That was not the first thing though, the first thing was honesty.

"My name is Regulus Black." he said stepping towards her, stretching out a hand towards her "And you are?"

"Mafalda Prewett." she replied taking his hand with her own and shaking it "It's nice to meet you Regulus."

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry that didn't come as fast as I thought it would. So a few things to address which I am sure someone will absolutely have to point out. I am indeed aware that Mafalda (whose surname we never got told) was intended to be four years younger than the Trio – I decided to use her in this story because she is a character that never made it to canon and is rarely explored at all. To make her work in this story she needed to be older – hence the age change._

 _Pansy Parkinson's hair is never described in the books and that is what this story is going off of. I have always viewed her as a blonde and I think that she would want to be blonde even if she was born with a darker colour hair – this viewpoint will be explained as this story progresses._

 _Sirius motivation for staying where he is at this time no wanted will be explained as the story progresses._

 _Thank you for reviewing, favouring and reading_


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